


Breaking Up and Making Up

by triste



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:04:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's an idiot. That's all you need to know. They should change his name from Pendragon to Pratdragon."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Up and Making Up

Title: Breaking Up and Making Up  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Merlin  
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin  
Rating: PG  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

It's late, and it's dark, but Merlin remains where Gaius left him over an hour ago sitting cross legged in front of the fireplace as he works meticulously on getting Arthur's battle armour to shine.

"It's nice to see you taking your duties so seriously," remarks Gaius as he closes the door behind himself.

"Well, you know," replies Merlin, sparing him only a cursory glance and a grin before turning back to his task. "Big day tomorrow. We're all aware of how much Arthur likes to show off for the big tournaments. It's my job to make him look his best, otherwise he'll complain. Heaven forbid I give him anything else to whinge about. If I don't polish this armour enough for him to see his face in it, he'll have me in the stocks before you can say 'rotten tomatoes'. It's a good tactic, don't you think? Blinding your opponents into submission instead of hitting them with a sword until they fall down?"

"For you, maybe, but I doubt it would give Uther anything to show off about if his son used the same strategy," Gaius says dryly. "After all, hitting things with swords until they fall down is Arthur's speciality."

"Or shooting them with crossbows," adds Merlin. "When it comes to inflicting violence on living creatures, Arthur can be pretty flexible."

"Yes, well, that's how he was brought up, not that I hear you protesting about it as much as you usually would," Gaius observes. "I thought you enjoyed getting to watch him fight?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," says Merlin. "You said it yourself, I'm only doing my duty."

"And part of that duty is to act as Arthur's personal cheerleader?"

"He's a prince, he needs his ego stroking. He'd wither away to nothing if he didn't have people constantly saying how fantastic he is. Not that he *is* fantastic, of course, but he does insist on being told these things."

Merlin has clearly been spending too much time with Gwen, Gaius thinks, because he's babbling just like she does whenever she starts digging herself into a hole, but he refrains from voicing the opinion out loud.

"That aside, it looks like you've got everything covered. Don't stay up too late, all right? Finish quickly and get some rest."

"I will," says Merlin, but Gaius knows he won't. Despite what Merlin claims, he truly cares about Arthur and takes pride in the work that he does for him. The gold on Arthur's freshly washed tunic gleams in the firelight from where Merlin has hung it to dry, and his sharpened sword is placed against the wall with more care than Merlin would usually offer any other weaponry.

Gaius smiles, not that Merlin can see it, head bent over the armour the way it is, and he gives him a pat on the shoulder good night before heading off to bed.

~~

Merlin's denials are soon forgotten next day at the tournament, yelling out encouragement to Arthur and pumping his fist into the air triumphantly whenever Arthur advances to the next round.

"Isn't this great?" he shouts to Gaius over the roar of the crowd. "Isn't *he* great?"

"He certainly is," agrees Gaius in amusement, and Merlin grins broadly, his eyes shining bright as they crinkle at the corners. "There's no guarantee that he's going to win, though."

"Of course he's going to win," Merlin insists. "He's the strongest warrior in all of Camelot! Nobody can beat him!"

"That remains to be seen," Gaius maintains, and Merlin nudges him in the side with an elbow.

"Come on, Gaius, show some spirit. Have faith in Arthur!"

"I think you have enough faith for the both of us," says Gaius, but Merlin isn't listening anymore, his attention having switched abruptly from his mentor back to Arthur.

As Merlin predicts, Arthur is the one to take the title of champion, not that Gaius ever really expected otherwise, but he always has to be the voice of reason where Merlin is concerned.

Merlin is jumping up and down with glee, hugging Gaius and spinning him around in clumsy circles. He's laughing so joyfully Gaius doesn't have the heart to tell him that he's treading all over his feet, and it's only when Merlin releases him to follow after Arthur that Gaius can finally begin tending to the wounded.

He watches as Merlin leaves, gesticulating wildly along the way, laughing and joking, and Arthur preens under the praise as they head off to prepare for the celebratory feast.

~~

It doesn't last.

Gaius is poring over a textbook one evening when Merlin storms into the room and slams the door behind him. His expression is thunderous, and it takes him a minute or so to calm down long enough to speak.

"Arthur is such a *prat*!" he rages, and although it's nothing Gaius hasn't already heard before, he marks the page he was reading before closing the book with a sigh.

"I take it the two of you had another argument?" he says, and Merlin scowls. It's a stark contrast to how he was at the tournament, but then Merlin is apparently in no mood to smile.

"He's an arse, Gaius!" he says. "An arse and a git and a twat and... and... a *prat*! A complete and utter prat!"

"What has he done this time?"

"Does it matter? He's an idiot. That's all you need to know. They should change his name from Pendragon to Pratdragon. It'd suit him more."

"You'll make up," Gaius says soothingly. "You always do."

It's true, they do, but Merlin doesn't seem interested in reconciliation at the moment.

"I've quit being his servant," he announces grandly. "From now on, I'm going to dedicate myself to medicine full time. That's why you have to teach me everything you know."

Gaius' lips twitch in bemusement. "Everything?"

"Yes, everything. I'll start by memorising all the books you own."

And with that, Merlin makes toward the nearest shelf and pulls a book out at random.

He actually has a very good memory, and Gaius knows this from experience, but it's also somewhat selective. He could ask Merlin what clothes he had to dress Arthur in nine days ago and Merlin would answer without even having to think. He's able to keep track of all Arthur's appointments. Despite what Uther has been led to believe, Merlin is quite intelligent. Occasionally. When it suits him.

Unfortunately, most of his talents are evidently born to serve Arthur's needs alone. Merlin's previous studies of science have been half-hearted at best. When Gaius sends him out for herbs, it's touch and go whether Merlin will actually come back with everything he requested. Whenever he does remember the right ingredients, it's inevitably for the wrong potion. He's only attempted to make a sleeping draught for Morgana once. How it ended up as an aphrodisiac rather than a sedative Gaius still has no idea, and Gwen was most embarrassed and reluctant to give him any details when Morgana finally released her from her 'services'.

~~

One week later, and Merlin shows no sign of wanting to return to his rightful place by Arthur's side. Gaius' chambers have developed a near permanent burnt smell from all the explosions that have been going off.

Gaius was right the first time. Merlin is no physician.

When he's not being frustrated by Merlin being under his feet almost constantly, however, Gaius is willing to concede that, if he wasn't still sulking over his and Arthur's latest fight, he wouldn't be half bad if only he would pay proper attention. As it stands now, Merlin is nothing but a menace.

"It's supposed to change colour," he complains, leaning over and peering suspiciously at the potion he's been brewing all afternoon. "Why isn't it changing colour?"

"There could be any number of reasons," says Gaius. "And don't stick your face so close to a naked flame. It's dangerous."

It wouldn't be the first time Merlin has almost singed his eyebrows off, but he refuses to heed the warning.

"I read the instructions right," he says, moving nearer and tapping the side of the glass insistently with a spoon. "It's supposed to work this time." He taps the glass again and mutters to it.

Gaius has less than half a second to cry out in alarm when a loud bang echoes through his chambers as Merlin causes yet another explosion. The smoke eventually clears, and Merlin blinks, bewildered, as he suddenly finds himself with waist length hair.

"What on earth have you done?" says Gaius.

"I just said something that would make the potion boil faster," answers Merlin, staring down at his hair in confusion, and Gaius puts his head in his hands with a moan. "Maybe I accidentally mixed the 'potion boil faster' bit with 'hair grow faster' instead. They do sound kind of similar. But don't worry, I'm sure I can reverse it."

"Don't even bother," warns Gaius. "We'll do this the safer, old-fashioned way, with scissors."

He ushers Merlin to sit down at the table, deciding to leave clean up for later, and drapes a towel over his shoulders. Merlin finds the situation funny now that he's over the initial shock, but Gaius simply gives another long suffering sigh as he starts cutting Merlin's hair back to its original length.

There's a brief knock on the door and then Arthur steps inside.

"Oh, Merlin, here you are," he begins, but then stops short. "What happened to your *hair*?"

"Um," says Merlin, whipping his head round to look at Gaius for help with an excuse so fast that Gaius just barely misses nicking him on the ear with the scissors. "Um... It's..."

"An unpleasant side effect," Gaius interrupts, taking pity on Merlin and coming to his rescue. "It's the result of a very complicated, very *scientific* experiment."

"Right," Arthur says, more than a little dubious, but he clears his throat awkwardly and fixes his gaze on Merlin's. "Yes. Okay. I, uh... came to apologise. For what happened last week. I may have been a little harsh on you, and... well... I'm sorry. I just wanted to tell you that."

"Oh." Merlin tries to nod but Gaius' hand keeps his head stationary to prevent him from nearly shearing another ear off. "All right. Apology accepted."

"Good."

"Yeah. Good."

Gaius decides to come to the rescue yet again. "There's an errand I have to run, so we'll continue this when I get back. Mind the place while I'm away, and *do* try not to blow anything else up."

He leaves the two of them in peace to make up properly, and Arthur clears his throat again.

"You look stupid," he says to Merlin once Gaius is gone. "Was it really an experiment?"

"Yeah," lies Merlin. "I was trying to make a potion but it went wrong."

"You're as incompetent as a manservant as you are as a physician," snorts Arthur, but there's no real spite in the words. "You have been working hard, though. I'll give you that. Even if it means you've been neglecting your other duties in the process. I have a list of chores for you to do that's as long as my arm, and I expect them all to be done well. None of this-" he waves a hand vaguely in Merlin's direction "-whatever you've been up to lately."

"It's only happened once," Merlin says defensively. "Usually I just... blow stuff up."

Arthur shook his head. "Only you would nearly kill yourself trying to make something that would save someone else's life." Then he pauses. "I could have a go at it. If you want, that is. Cutting your hair, I mean."

"I probably ought to wait until Gaius gets back," says Merlin.

"You don't trust me?" asks Arthur.

"No, I do!" says Merlin. "Honestly. I trust you with my life."

"But not with your hair."

"It's not that. Gaius said..."

"No, no, it's okay. I only thought I'd offer, as a gesture of goodwill."

"Oh." Merlin shrugs. "Well, if you don't mind..."

Arthur steps behind him and picks up the scissors Gaius left on the tabletop. "You do want it cutting, don't you? You can be such a girl sometimes, I mean. You might prefer to leave it as it is."

"You've only just apologised, Arthur. Let's not fall out again so soon."

"Yes, you're right. Well no, you're not, but I really need those chores doing, so I have to say what you want to hear."

"You could have gotten another servant to do them for you. Or, you know, asked Gwen."

"They're your chores. You have to do them."

They don't say anything else for a while after that. The only sound in the room is the snip of the scissors as Arthur continues what Gaius started, his hands oddly gentle as he works, and soon the floor around Merlin's feet is littered with lopped off locks.

"I'm done," Arthur says later, eyeing Merlin critically. "At least you don't look stupid anymore, although you do have a bit of a bald patch."

"I have a what?!" Merlin reaches up to feel at it, disgruntled. "My trust in you is clearly misplaced. I should have let Gaius finish this instead!"

"I tried my best," says Arthur, offended. "Besides, it's not that bad. It'll grow back. You can always wear that scarf over your head in the meantime, you know, like old women do. And stop whining. Do you know what would happen if anyone heard about this? Me, the crown prince, cutting the hair of a lowly servant? I have bestowed a great honour upon you! You should be bowing at my feet! I'd never do this for anybody else!"

"An honour?" Merlin echoes, incredulous. "You gave me a *bald* patch!"

"Certain sacrifices must be made in order to achieve the greater good," says Arthur, most likely parroting his father, but Merlin doesn't care.

"You really are a prat. I thought you were being nice for once, but no, you have to go lording it over me instead, even though it's your fault we fell out in the first place!"

"You are so ungrateful! I should make you lick my boots!"

"And I should make you wake up in the morning with girl hair!"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Yes, I would, because you're a tosspot. And you can find yourself another servant because I won't be coming back!"

"Fine! I don't need you anyway. I never did!"

Arthur storms off as Gaius re-enters his chambers, casting Merlin a despairing glance when Arthur slams the door. "Oh, no. Not again."

"He started it," Merlin says sullenly. "He gave me a bald patch, so I quit being his servant."

"And how many times does this make?"

"I don't care. It's still his fault."

Merlin skulks off to his room, leaving Gaius to do something about the hair all over the floor and the scorch marks on the table.

The road to becoming a great king is obviously a long one, he thinks to himself, if Arthur hasn't grown out of his childish bickering with Merlin yet, but he'll give them another three days to make up at the most.

 

End.


End file.
